


A Late-Night Visit

by SeasaltStars



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ? - Freeform, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sex, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Ignatz and Linhardt are happily married, M/M, Post Timeskip, Post War, Post-Timeskip, Post-War, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, i never write smut what do I tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 06:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasaltStars/pseuds/SeasaltStars
Summary: Ignatz and Linhardt found the happy, quiet life they'd always dreamed of after the war. Claude comes to visit them to catch up, but being the schemer that he is, gets /ideas/.





	A Late-Night Visit

**Author's Note:**

> look sometimes you just have to write happy self-indulgent smut okay? Okay??? Don't look at me
> 
> this is the same Ighardt timeline as QitL and yes I'm still going to slowburn sweet and happy through that I just really needed to write this first

Ignatz Victor had never, not in a million years, thought he’d be living the way he was today.

It was enough of a miracle that they had won the war, and that they’d all lived through it no less. Soon after, he began his career as a painter. Then came the cabin in the forest outside of that small Alliance town, far from the road and quiet. 

But the last thing Ignatz would’ve expected, if you’d asked him eight years ago, would be the part where he gets to walk home hand-in-hand with his husband after a day’s work.

Linhardt spent three days a week working in the town’s library. It didn’t pay much, but it made him happy and got him out of the house. Ignatz had spent this particular Saturday at the market, trying and successfully arranging a buyer for his latest painting. It was a large oil piece of Saint Cethleann surrounded by ocean waves, and it had fetched an even higher price than he’d hoped for with a buyer in the Empire. Word on the street was that his reputation in the art world was growing, driving up both the demand and prices of his paintings. Ignatz felt both excited and relieved; he and Linhardt didn’t need much to live happily, but this meant they could continue to live comfortably for the foreseeable future. The peace of mind, after so long of fighting and living in fear, was more than he could have ever asked for.

So on this particular Saturday, Ignatz and Linhardt walked home hand-in-hand through the forest path they’d treaded out with time. Their cabin was small, but well-built and cozy, everything they needed and nothing they didn’t. A hike further north would take them to the lake where Linhardt liked to fish and Ignatz liked to paint plein-air, just as they’d done back in Garreg Mach years ago. A short walk from that led to some hot springs the two had discovered. This was their small corner of the world, places they had all to themselves. Ignatz caught himself marveling from time to time that, yes… this really was his life. His life, his home, his career, his husband. He couldn’t ask for a single thing more.

They arrived home as the afternoon sunlight began to turn gold through the trees, Linhardt adding his new library books to his already impressive to-read pile. Though the war was over, Linhardt’s interest in Crestology hadn’t faltered in the slightest, and he now spent time researching more practical applications for Crests in times of peace like this. Ignatz uncorked the bottle of wine he’d carried; a gift waiting for them in their post office box from one Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, along with a short but lovely letter wishing them well. He poured each of them a glass as Linhardt started preparing dinner. With the promise of a large sum of money on the way, they had every reason to celebrate, after all. Though really, Ignatz would say that every day was worth celebrating now.

There was a knock at the door.

Both froze for a moment. No one /ever/ knocked. Most people in town didn’t even know where to find them.

After a beat of silence, Claude peeked his face into the window.

“I can /see/ you two, you know!”

“CLAUDE!!”

Both scrambled to get the front door open and were immediately swept into an iron hug.

“You two look so good!!” Claude ruffled a hand through Ignatz’ hair, now fine layers and soft fluffs of green. “Look at you! Love the hair!”

“Ahh, thanks! My parents aren’t around to make me cut it their way out here, heh.”

“And you Lin! Did I see you /cooking/ just now?”

“Yes, yes you did. I’ve grown up a lot, I guess.” Linhardt glanced over his shoulder. “I should get back to it before it burns, just a moment. I’ll put more on for you!”

“Hey, thanks!”

“Come on in!” Ignatz closed the front door and headed back to the table. “Would you like a glass of wine too? Lorenz just sent us a nice bottle.”

“As if I’d ever say no to a glass of wine with you guys!” Claude shed his traveling cloak and hung it next to Ignatz’ by the door. His clothes were simple; pale golds and soft browns, old boots and humble embroidery. While he certainly looked presentable, no one would guess that they were looking at the King of Almyra.

“How did you find us?”

“Asked around town. The postman pointed me in the right direction, and it was pretty easy to find your trailhead from there.”

He joined Ignatz at the table and took a big gulp of wine. “I finally caught a break in diplomacy and I wanted to come see how everyone was doing. I miss you guys! I would’ve told you I was coming ahead of time, but. They would’ve made it a whole production, yknow? None of us want that.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Ignatz topped him off. “Don’t feel bad, we’re more than happy to have you! We’ve missed you too, but you’re harder to keep in touch with than the others.”

“Well, thankfully we just worked out a trade deal that includes postal, so that’ll be fixed pretty soon.” Another swig of wine. “I’ll give you a drop to send stuff to! No one will know about that one but me.” He leaned to address Linhardt, finishing up the cooking. “I have you to thank for that one, Lin! Your system with Ignatz really inspired me!”

Linhardt smiled, the sentimentality of the time creeping back to him. Letters of a forbidden love across enemy lines for five years of war… “Thanks,” he said, mostly just to avoid the awkwardness of not responding.

Claude raised an eyebrow at Ignatz, that coy look in his eyes that always told Ignatz he was about to get teased. “Not helping your husband with dinner, hmm?”

“I do, usually,” Ignatz’ face went red. “But he insisted today.”

Linhardt came up behind him, setting three full plates on the table. “I sure did. Iggy managed to find a great price for his latest painting today, so I figured it’s only fair.” He kissed his blushing husband on the cheek, then stole a sip of his wine.

“I saw that painting while I was in the market! You’ve gotten so good Iggy, you’re really impressive!” Claude pulled his plate in closer. “This looks amazing Lin, thanks! You know, I wish I’d gotten here sooner. I would’ve snapped that painting up myself.”

“I can paint you another sometime, whatever you want! You’re my friend, after all!”

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’d do it for free. I would’ve paid WAY more than that buyer did.”

“But Clau-“

“Nuh-uh. You’re a dear friend, you get the commission you deserve.” Claude downed his glass. “But we can talk about commission details another time. I came all this way to have a good time with you guys!”

They spent the rest of dinner catching up; a year of near silence gave each of them a lot to talk about. Ignatz and Linhardt talked about how they settled down out here and how everything had been going since; Claude was especially impressed that Linhardt was out working an actual job, which eventually became a lengthy discussion about Linhardt’s latest Crestology findings. Claude in turn talked about all he’d been doing in Almyra, what it was like, what he’d worked out, trying to leave out as much convoluted political jargon as possible. The point was, he said, that negotiations were going well, and everything was shaking out amicably. Should everything keep going so smoothly, a prosperous future would await all of them.

Ignatz couldn’t help but stare at Claude while he said all this. He watched his eyes, jade green, flecked with gold if you looked long enough. This was all his dream, after all. To bridge the rift that had formed in their world… to see him talk about it so passionately was, well, magical.

It had really happened. All of it. They’d all found their happy endings.

By the time they’d finished dinner and the conversation had lulled, the wine bottle was empty. Ignatz, the lightweight of the three, felt the grip on his mind loosen just a tiny bit. Normally he’d prefer just to be a little bit tipsier if it were that sort of fun night, but such silliness didn’t seem appropriate with a guest over. On the other hand, it /was/ Claude, who embodied innocent silliness even still.

The three decided to take a walk, wanting to show Claude their favorite places to pass time. The sky was a dusty lavender, the brightest stars poking through the veil of the sun’s last rays. The wind blew waves of sparkling orange across the top of the lake, air cool and crisp and refreshingly clean. 

Ignatz reached out and held Linhardt’s hand as the three of them stood there taking in the moment. After a moment, he reached to hold Claude’s too.

“I’m really happy for you guys.” The smile reached Claude’s voice. “I remember how you’d talk about how you just wanted a quiet life, doing your own things… I’m glad you found it.”

He gave Ignatz’ hand a squeeze, who squeezed both his and Linhardt’s in response.

“You made your dream come true too,” he said softly. 

“Yeah… we all really made it happen.”

They watched the lake for a while longer, the sun sinking over the horizon as the minutes passed. The orange glow left the lake, and more stars appeared one by one above them. But the sun’s absence soon brought a chill to the night air and they decided to retreat back to the warmth of the cabin, where they sat around the table and chatted a while longer. 

“Do you want us to walk you back to town?” Linhardt offered. “It’s gotten pretty dark out, and we could show you where the nicer inn is.”

“Thanks, but if it’s all right with you, I wanted to stay a bit longer.”

“Of course, we don’t mind at all!”

“You could stay the night here, if you wanted.” Ignatz glanced around, not knowing /how/ they’d manage in their tiny cabin. “We could make you up something out here, and um,” his face went red. “I guess, well, our bed IS big enough to fit all of us…”

“As long as I’m not smushed in the middle,” Linhardt said with a laugh in his voice. “Why are you blushing? As if we didn’t all sleep in piles during our marches. We were damn near on top of each other.”

“I know…”

Linhardt kissed him on the nose. “You’re precious, love.”

Claude watched the exchange with a softness in his eyes, chin resting on his folded hands.

“On that note, actually… I may have had something else in mind. Something else for us to do.”

Ignatz and Linhardt turned to look at him now. There was /that/ tone they both knew so well. The schemer side of him was coming out.

“Well, you see… and you by no means have to say yes, so don’t feel like you need to. But I had the thought. What if we… /shared/ the night together? All three of us?”

Claude’s expression didn’t change. Ignatz, however, was trying to convince himself he hadn’t heard that right. Incredulous, he looked to Linhardt to see if he’d reacted similarly, but there was no trace of shock on his face. “Pensive” would be the word he’d use.

“Again. You don’t have to say yes. Whether we do or we don’t, I don’t want it to be a big deal.”

“I think I’d like to,” Linhardt said almost matter-of-factly, like they were discussing setting up a study group after class. “I think it’d be fun.”

He looked down at Ignatz. “How do you feel? Would you be comfortable with it?”

Many thoughts raced through Ignatz’ head, but none of them formed words.

Linhardt reached out and laced his fingers with Ignatz’. Ignatz felt his fingers fit securely between Linhardt’s wedding band and engagement ring, which he still never took off. He brushed the smooth, round gems with his free hand and smiled, Linhardt patiently waiting for him to respond.

“I want to,” he said, still focusing on the rings. “I just…” He looked up to meet Linhardt’s gaze now. His expression was soft, but his eyes had that distinct ‘alert’ look he got whenever something truly grabbed his interest. “I’m shy, Lin, you know that. I... I feel like…”

“… Like you need someone to tell you it’s okay.”

“… Yeah. Exactly that.”

Ignatz considered himself blessed that his husband knew him so well in the most convoluted matters.

Linhardt leaned in and kissed Ignatz gently on the lips, running a hand through his soft tufts of hair.

“… It’s okay.”

Ignatz smiled against his lips, then kissed him back.

They went at this for a moment, each kiss getting deeper until they were fully making out. It was too easy for Ignatz to get lost in it; kissing Linhardt always sent him back to their first kiss at the monastery, that same bewildered euphoria filling his chest. Though that was over seven years ago now, the feeling never went away. He reached up and pulled the ribbon from Linhardt’s hair, still tied up from when he prepared dinner. Linhardt responded by brushing his fingers along Ignatz’ thigh, sending a small shudder up his husband’s back. His hands continued upward and began working at the buttons of Igantz’ waistcoat, the nice peacock-green brocade one with the flower pattern that shimmered when the light hit it just right. He always wore it when he was trying to hunt down a buyer.

“Have I told you how much I love this one?”

“Many times.” He smiled against him again.

“It looks so good on you,” Linhardt purred as he let it fall unceremoniously off Ignatz’ shoulders. He couldn’t help himself, he grabbed Ignatz’ cravat and tugged him gently forward into another deep, passionate kiss. He slid his hands up Ignatz’ shirt, brushing gentle trails down his back. This earned Ignatz’ first gasp of the night, soft and shuddering against Linhardt’s lips.

Linhardt turned his head to see Claude watching them intently. He had that soft yet smug look on his face, that satisfied expression he got when he saw one of his schemes coming together.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.”

Somehow, Ignatz managed to blush an even deeper shade of red.

Linhardt returned to the task of distracting him with his mouth, working at the buttons of his shirt now. 

But Ignatz gave a sharp gasp at the feel of Claude’s fingers gently undoing his cravat.

“My my,” he said, voice rich and silky. “Is he always so sensitive?”

“Oh yes, every time.”

“Color me excited,” he said as he brushed the sides of Ignatz’ now-exposed neck, making him outright /moan/ in response.

“You’re both bastards,” Ignatz said, but he couldn’t make the words bite very hard. It made Linhardt laugh /hard/, while Claude gave this delighted giggle that both knew was very hard to get out of him.

But his indignance melted when Claude tilted his head to face him. He knew he had ‘that’ face, the one Claude had once called his ‘bunny rabbit just before it bolted off’ face.

“May I?”

Breathless, Ignatz could only nod.

He would never admit it, and could barely admit it to himself. But he had burned for Claude once, before Lin had come into his life. And as it turned out, as Claude’s lips met his, those embers never died.

The kiss started gently, Claude exploring how his new partner reacted before he tried anything, but Ignatz’ heart was thudding so hard in his chest he couldn’t help himself. He cupped Claude’s jaw in his hands, brushing his fingers against the scruff he maintained so neatly. He ran his hands through his hair, down his back, taking every opportunity just to /touch/ him, to take in every bit of him while he was within his reach.

In that moment, he wasn’t a famed general, or a brilliant strategist, or a diligent king.

He was Claude. Beloved.

Ignatz leaned into the kisses now, moaning his little noises while Claude reached through his half-undone shirt to brace his hip and draw him in closer. It meant standing, but Ignatz hardly cared, following him up and trying desperately to pull Claude’s tunic up.

Linhardt snuck up behind Ignatz as Claude finally got his shirt to the floor, lacing his arms around his husband’s waist and nuzzling into the back of his neck. Ignatz shuddered, breathing hard.

But Claude pulled back a second, noticing the little white line on Ignatz’ chest. A memory the three of them remembered well… the day they almost lost Ignatz on the field, just over six years ago. He still blamed himself. He had left him behind, and had been too reckless to notice. Of course, Ignatz insisted it wasn’t his fault, but he felt responsible all the same. It was only because Linhardt had gone tearing across the field screaming for him that they’d found him in time.

He leaned around Ignatz to kiss Linhardt now, who took it without hesitation and responded enthusiastically. Ignatz stared at them both wide-eyed, thoroughly stunned and maybe a little guiltily turned on.

“Thank you,” Claude murmured against him, “for always keeping him safe.”

Linhardt smiled and cupped his jaw, evidently unable to resist the scruff either. “Thank you for always keeping us on the right path.”

A moment of tender silence passed between the three of them, but Claude knew better than to let a moment drag too long with these two.

“I say it’s about time we take this to the bed, huh?” Gently, he reached down to Ignatz’ pants to punctuate the statement. Sure enough, he was already rock solid. Ignatz let out this bright, shaky /whine/ at the touch, a delicious sound that Claude intended to make him replicate many, many more times.

“Ooh, let me try,” Linhardt said in this almost sing-songy tone, going a step further and reaching a hand down Ignatz’ pants while the other braced his chest against him. The touch was met with another whiny moan and a few hard pants, Ignatz reaching back to brace Linhardt’s hips with a newfound desperation. Linhardt didn’t allow his breathing to let up as he gave him a few long, torturously slow pulls, Claude having taken the hint to undo his pants.

“Fuck, love, you make the most wonderful sounds.” He nuzzled into Ignatz’ shoulder, leaving a soft kiss. He pressed himself against Ignatz’ back, making his breath hitch. “I should top you more often.”

“Hah, does he normally top?”

“Oh yes, I make him. I’m mean like that.”

“M-Make- /ah/- make is a strong word…”

Claude silenced him with a kiss, then pulled back to hold his head in his hands, letting this image of Ignatz’ face etch into his mind. He was rosy, eyes heavy-lidded, his elegant features gone soft. He always knew that Ignatz was shy and endearingly modest, but to think he’d be /this/ submissive? It was a treat. An absolute gift.

Linhardt had stopped, both arms around his chest now in a soft embrace, head resting on his shoulder.

“Claude’s right. We should move to the bed.”

They lost the rest of their clothes on the way over and Ignatz found himself between the two, sitting back on his heels on their bed (a luxurious Empire-made piece; Lin had insisted). But this was as far as his imagination had gotten, and he found himself a little lost.

“What do we, erm… do now…?”

Linhardt retrieved the oil from his nightstand. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” He raced through his thoughts, trying to piece a better response together. “It’s like… like one of my big paintings. I know what I want it to look like, but… I don’t know where to start.”

“You start the same way,” Linhardt said with a bright smile. He grasped Ignatz with an oil-covered hand, savoring the resulting gasp. “With one stroke at a time.”

“Nice one,” Claude said with a chuckle as Lin gave Ignatz a few lazy pulls. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead,” Lin answered for him, Ignatz being too busy moaning softly.

Claude held up a hand for Lin to stop, who nodded and settled back. He came up behind Ignatz and ran his hands up his torso, feeling the soft tone of his abs, all the way up to his chest. He pulled him against his own, Ignatz’ breath hitching again at the feeling of Claude’s cock against his back. Claude held him there for a moment, feeling Ignatz’ heart beat beneath his fingers, savoring the feeling of holding his trembling body against his own.

For how many years had he imagined this moment, again?

“Ignatz… Ig-gy~”

Ignatz tensed up completely at the purring voice in his ear.

“Can I fuck you, Iggy?” He kissed his neck, let his teeth graze him a tiny bit, which made Ignatz gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

His trembling definitely noticeable now, Ignatz nodded in response. “Y-Yes, yes please,” he managed to get out. His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see the delighted look on his husband’s face. Linhardt /definitely/ had that look of seeing something that caught his undivided interest; it was the most awake Claude had ever seen him personally.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll help,” he said in his most loving tone. He moved in and, without pulling him away from Claude, kissed him gently on the lips. He knew the familiarity helped Ignatz immensely, and that he’d need it as Lin slid a slick finger into him. Ignatz gasped sharply- more of a strangled cry, really- but didn’t try to pull away or resist. 

“Please take his glasses off, Claude. I like to see him like this.”

“Yessir,” Claude said in his playful tone as he delicately slid the glasses off Ignatz’ nose. He almost asked if Ignatz would still see them, but some part of his brain quickly recalled a training day where Ignatz mentioned being nearsighted. No problem then; they’d be very, very near him indeed.

Linhardt slid a second finger inside him and tossed the oil around to Claude with his free hand. Ignatz was breathing hard now, aching, yearning, feeling utterly overwhelmed between the two. His mind could hardly form a coherent thought, overwhelmed with the /need/ for both of them, and blinded again as Linhardt leaned in to kiss him more.

“Lin,” he gasped against his lips. His husband responded by crooking his fingers inside of him, and the sound he made was absolutely /delightful/. “AH, Lin- Lin /PLEASE/, ah-“

“Fuck, you’re just adorable,” Claude whispered into his ear in as he pushed his own finger inside. The keening /whine/ that came from Ignatz was enough to send a jolt down his own spine, and his cock ached badly now.

They worked him open for a bit, delighting in the sounds he made whenever they’d move just a /little/ too quickly. Though neither had said it, they were both wondering how long it would take to make him beg. Linhardt loved teasing him when they had sex, but this was a special occasion and he was determined to make the most of it.

It didn’t take too long before Ignatz tried to wriggle away from them. “Please, ah- please, just do it, Claude just take me already, I can’t take it anymore…”

He really couldn’t, Claude mused. Ignatz was trembling so much he was almost worried he’d shake himself apart before they even got started.

“All right, whatever you want, Iggy.” With one hand still bracing Ignatz’ chest, he ran the back of his hand against his cheek, then pulled him sideways to kiss him on the lips. “Anything I shouldn’t do?”

“Nothing that hurts,” Ignatz said quickly. “I-I don’t like hurting…”

“No blood,” Linhardt added quickly, his tone suddenly serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He figured neither were the type to get rough in the bedroom; he himself only thought it was fun sometimes, and only with the right partner. No, soft and loving was the way to go here, and he could revel in that just fine.

As deftly as he could with only one free hand, Claude coated his palm in oil and gave himself a few pulls- /fuck/, he really was aching- and braced himself against Ignatz.

“Ready?”

Ignatz could only manage a nod.

Claude pushed in slowly, wishing he could exist in that moment forever with the sound Ignatz was making as he took him all the way to the base. “/Fuck/, Iggy, you feel so good…”

He’d imagined, perhaps a few times too many, what Ignatz would feel like around him. This was worlds better than anything he came up with.

Without any protesting response from Ignatz, he began to move slowly, keeping himself deep. Ignatz braced his hands on top of Claude’s, one over his chest, the other over his stomach, keeping him close and propped up on his knees. He could feel Ignatz’ heart fluttering beneath his fingertips, and between that and that intent, hungry look of Linhardt’s as he watched… damn, it had been a long time since he’d had sex this good.

“Yes, hit him deep,” Linhardt purred as he came closer. “He loves it deep.”

Ignatz himself was beyond words. He was normally fairly quiet with Lin, but this situation had him gasping, breathing hard, unable to restrain himself. He tipped his head back as Linhardt grasped him again, gasps turning to moans as his stroking resumed.

They carried on like this for a moment and Ignatz could feel himself getting overwhelmed, between the lips against his chest, the back of his neck, the hands, Claude moving deep inside of him-

“S-Stop, stop stop-“

Everything came to a complete halt. Linhardt remained composed, knowing this wasn’t his ‘distressed’ stop.

“What’s wrong, love?” he said with a gentle caress of his cheek. 

“L-Let me turn around… I want to see him, I want to see Claude for this…”

Ignatz was pinned between kisses from both sides again. 

“Of course,” Lin said in his lovely voice. “You’re so beautiful, he should get to see you.”

It was enough to make Ignatz shudder through his trembling.

Rearranging was a little awkward though, with so many grown men on the bed. Claude stayed where he was, Ignatz turning to face him.

“Lean back, love, I’ll hold you.”

Ignatz obeyed, leaning back against Linhardt’s chest while Claude braced his hips. Claude pressed his thumbs into the soft flesh between Ignatz’ hips and lower abs, making him shiver with a shuddery gasp. Linhardt kissed the top of his head; Claude was genuinely impressed with his self-control in this whole situation. Linhardt, whod’ve thought?

He eased in, and couldn’t help but smile at the shaky, satisfied moan he drew from Ignatz. They found their rhythm again, Claude admittedly glad Ignatz made them rearrange like this. He’d get to see Ignatz when he came, which was more of a treat than he’d dare ask for himself. 

“You’re doing so well,” Linhardt whispered into Ignatz’ ear. Claude wasn’t sure if Ignatz could even register the words at this point, but he guessed it didn’t matter. “You’re so beautiful like this… you’re a masterpiece.” It was /unbearably/ hot to watch.

Linhardt reached down to work Ignatz’ cock again, just kind enough to not make Claude do it himself. Between that and Claude’s deep thrusts, Ignatz couldn’t take much more as his noises turned to quick breathy “/ah, ah, ah/”s, and Lin knew he was close. He came with shallow, soft moans, the euphoria so strong it got his whole body twitching. And that sensation was enough to send Claude over in response, riding Ignatz through it, maybe a little harder than he would’ve liked but neither were coherent enough to care.

No one said anything for a moment. Claude, still breathing hard, took the time to take in this image of Ignatz too, sprawled out before him, panting just as hard, glancing at him sideways through tired eyes as Linhardt nuzzled into his hair. Figuring he’d earned a moment to rest, Claude knelt forward and began to clean the mess he made off Ignatz’ stomach. Ignatz twitched at the feel of Claude’s tongue, but his gasps were almost too soft to hear through the exhaustion.

Claude took his time, letting Ignatz rest, savoring his own afterglow against Ignatz’ skin. When he was done, Linhardt shifted, bringing Ignatz’ face to meet his. For all his outward composure, Linhardt felt like he was going to /die/ from how hard he was.

He kissed Ignatz, slow and careful.

“May I have my turn now?” He gently brushed a bang away from his warm brown eyes. “Do you feel up for another?”

Ignatz nodded, but Linhardt could feel him tense apprehensively against him.

“It’ll probably hurt a little,” Linhardt said, stroking his cheek. “You sure?”

“Yes…” his voice was soft, tired. “I want you, Lin… I always want you…”

Claude watched the exchange blissfully, arms folded across Ignatz’ stomach, and couldn’t help but smile.

Linhardt kissed him again. “Whatever you want.” He turned to face Claude. “Here, I know what to do.”

They rearranged so that Ignatz was flat back against the sheets, Linhardt poised over him. Claude curled up beside them like a great cat, not quite sure what to do with himself yet but happy just to watch if it came to that.

Linhardt prodded first, slipping a finger into Ignatz. He whined, a sharper sound than usual, and Linhardt knew he was oversensitive.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please, let me have you, Lin…”

In an odd way, Linhardt was touched by that. Iggy, usually so insistent on no pain in the bedroom, willing to ache through a second round for him?

He lowered to kiss Ignatz again, pushing in slowly. He felt his husband squirm around him, Ignatz breathing a soft strangled cry against his lips, tilting his head back and clutching the sheets. 

But he didn’t tell him to stop.

Linhardt leaned his weight into him now, embracing him, moving his hips slowly with all the control he could manage in his own desperation. He knew Ignatz liked it, the weight. He kissed his neck, keeping his movements gentle as he worked Ignatz back into the moment.

It didn’t take too long before Ignatz embraced him fully, wrapping his legs around him and letting Linhardt hit him deeper. Knowing they’d found it, Linhardt closed his eyes and buried himself in the crook between Ignatz’ neck and shoulder, letting the sensations overwhelm him. He knew Ignatz’ pleased noises, and he was making them again in earnest.

Claude, perched on his elbows, reached to stroke Ignatz’ hair. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears hot in the corners. It did hurt, but it was plain to see that he didn’t care. Claude brushed the tears away and murmured a few comforts into his ear.

“Lin,” Ignatz started breathing over and over again, “Lin, Lin, Lin…”

And Claude, always the schemer, had the brilliant idea to reach between them and touch Ignatz.

Ignatz made a /MUCH/ louder moan than the ones he’d been making. Evidently, it didn’t take much for him now. “Claude- FUCK- Claude, Lin, /LIN/-“

Linhardt, not seeing what happened, felt Ignatz reacting beneath him, around him, and it did him in. “Fuck,” he breathed, “Ignatz, oh, fuck, ah…”

For a moment after he just laid there on top of him, neither able to move, both breathing hard. Claude, having recuperated somewhat, took it upon himself to see to the task of cleaning up. Maybe he was the guest, but they looked too sweet to disturb.

He rejoined them when Linhardt finally found the energy to roll beside Ignatz on his right, and slipped under the covers to Ignatz’ left. They took the cue and settled in, Ignatz barely awake, thoroughly blissed out.

Linhardt tipped his head towards him and gave him a final kiss for the night. “I love you, Ignatz.” He brushed his hand through his bangs again. “I love you.”

“Love you…” His mind was too foggy to respond beyond that, content just to savor his husband’s gentle touch. Claude swore he was already asleep as soon as he got the words out.

Linhardt gave Claude last final glance and a wink, but Claude could see that he was dropping fast too. But of course, it was Linhardt. Even on a good day he was on the brink of exhaustion.

Claude curled an arm around Ignatz, and reached up around him to link fingers with Linhardt, who continued petting Ignatz’ hair until he fell asleep too.

Some part of him had wanted to say something, but seeing the two of them like this, he decided it didn’t matter enough. Whatever “thank you’s” and pleasantries he’d considered could wait for the next morning.

He was grateful for them, both of them. The thought echoed through his mind as he fell asleep to the most restful night he’d had in a long time.


End file.
